


Cleanse Tag

by granitecave



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Demonic Possession, Ghosts, Horror, M/M, Suspense, ghost pokemon, hauntedmineshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/granitecave/pseuds/granitecave
Summary: When Roark takes a trip to Johto, he gets more than he bargained for...





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first segment of this fic, and I am really excited about seeing where this will take me. i realize the pacing may be a little off, but I'm working with it, and this is my first serious piece of writing in a long time.

The house had looked almost normal. Maybe, it wasn’t exactly the house, but the location, which was situated in the middle of nowhere, miles from any nearby city or town, in the middle of the Johto region. 

It was a small, unimposing structure, if not in a bit of disrepair. 

It would seem like just an abandoned house in the dense foliage, if it were not for the sense of foreboding that seemed to seep from it, and it was very obvious it was a place that did not welcome guests.

Or rather, it was very obvious to Morty. The Ghost Type gym leader possessed a six sense, able to see, feel, and communicate with things that most people often could not. Such as the heavy feeling that this house did not want them there.

 

“I really think we should head back...,” Morty adamantly declared, “The path ended about half a mile back…”

The Sinnohian gym leader crossed his arms over his chest, in an expression of quizzical   
impatience. 

“Turn back?” Roark glanced around, a touch uneasy, “Perhaps you’re right, this place gives me the creeps.”

There was something about the house, despite it’s seemingly average outlook, that stuck in Roark’s mind, making a very vivid mental picture, even hours later when other details of the guided tour Morty took him on through what seemed like Johto’s most haunted locations, had faded. 

Ecruteak City was a popular tourist destination, it being the oldest city, the historical and cultural aspect made the streets swarm with people from all over the globe… Usually. Thankfully, it was mid-winter, and the rush had died for the season, which meant that hotels still had some vacancies. 

Roark had never stayed in a hotel before, had never even left Sinnoh, and his experience in Johto was already as if entering a different world. 

 

Sitting on a cushion on the floor of the ryokan room, Roark began to think about that house again. Why had it piqued his interest so much? From what he remembered there was nothing particularly exciting about it, aside from the fact it was in the middle of nowhere. 

Letting out a strangled gasp, Roark looked down at the low table in front of him. An “X” had been messily carved across the surface of the wood, and he surely didn’t remember any such markings before. 

As he was panicking, looking around the room where he was, undoubtedly alone, the phone rang shrilly into the silence. Taking a moment to process what the noise even meant, he got up on shaky legs, and walked over to the phone, picking up the receiver.

“H-hello?”

“Roark! Oh thank goodness I thought it was you,” a voice that was all too familiar to him rang out and the sound of that voice made him nearly drop the phone.

His mother. It was unmistakable. Her lithe graceful voice gliding over the words in a way he knew no one else. If it was an imitation, it was too good. She had been dead for years.

Pulling the receiver to his other ear all the while taking a long, shuddering breath, Roark tried to dispel the tears stinging at his eyes and blurring his vision. 

“A-ah who is this? It-it’s n-not f-f-funny,” 

“You know where to find me,” the voice that sounded like his mother responded, and the line went dead. 

Automatically, his mind went to the house in the woods. Was it possible his mother was there? Before he had time to stop himself he took out a map, trying to find where this house was. Crossing an ‘x’ on instinct with a black felt tip pen, on somewhere he knew where the house was. Yet, he wasn’t sure how he knew, only that it was there.

 

Racing out the inn, Roark made a beeline for the gym, despite it being incredibly late at night. 

The doors were locked. He kept trying to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Morty! Get out here!” Roark hysterically yelled. In his frantic panic, he had a half a mind to get his Cranidos to smash the door down. He had a hand on his Pokeball when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Is there a reason why you’re trying to break into my gym?”


	2. Part 2

The Fog Badge was named for the vast amount of fog in the gym itself. As soon as the door opened, plumes of thick vapor cascaded out, as if the gym had been enveloped in dry ice.

It was really hard to see anything, as the gym wasn’t very well lit to begin with, the only light source being from open flame candles stationed at irregular intervals, making the fog look heavy, and casting odd shadows.

Then there was the boardwalk, which didn’t even seem stable, and was built over a huge seemingly endless abyss.

Roark gulped, his fear from before completely lost, in fact he couldn’t even recall why he was so panicked earlier. Morty had seemed a bit concerned with Roark’s incoherent frantic hysteria, he took him into the gym, which is also where he lived, so he could watch over Roark.

Although he couldn’t remember what triggered such a reaction from him, he was starting to feel uneasy in the atmosphere of the gym. Peering over the side of the flimsy wooden walkway, Roark drew a shaky breath, his heart in his throat. He couldn’t even see the bottom…

“Don’t stand too close to the edge,” Morty warned. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed Roark’s hand, and led him up the path.

Roark gasped at the contact, feeling his face grow hot, but he didn’t pull away, and instead let Morty lead him through his gym. He trained his eyes on the scarf that swayed in front of him, and told himself don’t look anywhere else.

When Morty got to the battle arena at the far end of the gym, he pulled down a candlestick, and there was a heavy grinding sound, and slowly the wall in front of them opened.

Roark, a little dazed, followed Morty inside.

 

* * *

“So, you don’t remember anything….” Morty’s voice faded yet held an underlying concern.

“Not much,” Roark admitted, “Although, I do remember a house.”

“Which house are you referring to?”

“You had us turn back, so we never actually went to it.”

Morty thought for a second, then his eyes lit up with recognition. It was the house that gave him such a foreboding feeling.

Morty was lost in his own recollection for a second, he almost didn’t seem to hear Roark when he spoke again and said he planned to go back. Almost. Then the words registered and he was silent for a long while.

He still didn’t speak as he opened up a mahogany closet door and started tossing things behind him.

Pulling down a window, and barricading it shut, then he closed the wall off that led into the gym, the heavy grinding sound echoing through the small enclosure.

He then placed a few spell tags along the wall, sticking them everywhere.

“You may think I’m overreacting… which is fine, but I need you to stay here.”

“No, I trust, you. I came to you, because I was scared anyways.”

With that Morty pulled Roark into him, and even though the other was so much taller than him he made due with wrapping his arms tightly around his waist.

“You’ll be safe here, nothing will get you.”

Roark returned the embrace, his arms folding around Morty’s form. It took him a bit to realize that there were tears streaming down his face.

Morty’s room although small and disorganized, was comfortable, and there was a lingering smell of pine in the air. Roark felt himself relax.

Sitting on the wooden floor, trying to rid himself of the horrible mental images of the house that kept flashing through his mind. His eyes were closed and he was focusing on his breathing. Morty stood behind him and ran his hands through Roark’s red hair.

Then he thought of something, and moved back to the closet he was at before, and pulled out a sleeping mat.  
“Would you prefer to share my bed or sleep on the floor?”

Although Morty wouldn’t have been opposed to Roark sleeping directly beside him, there was still an unspoken awkwardness and he didn’t want to unknowingly break any boundaries.

“The floor would be fine,” was Roarks answer confirming Morty’s intuition.

Rolling out a mat next to his bed onto the floorboards, Morty then begun to get it ready for his guest - his boyfriend in fact - to sleep on, taking pillows and sheets and arranging them on the thin mat.

Roark broke into a half grin at the effort and when Morty finished, and stood back, Roark laid down, surprised at the comfort at the material.

Blowing out the candles that lit his tiny cove he called home, and throwing it into darkness, Morty then crawled onto his bed, which sat up a bit higher than the mat Roark laid on.

“Tell me if you need anything at all.”

“I will, don’t you worry.”

Satisfied with that answer, and also satisfied that Roark was safe, Morty pulled the covers over his head. Roark soon was fast asleep on his back, limbs splayed out in every direction.

Things were peaceful. But, it only lasted momentarily.

 

* *  *

 

The first thing Morty realized when he opened his eyes, was that he was completely alone in the small room. Looking down from the bed confirmed his suspicions, the blankets and pillows he arranged the night before thrown around in complete disarray.

Getting up, he threw open the closet doors, already knowing that Roark would not be inside. Instead, he was greeted with the miscellaneous objects strewn around the shelves.

“ROARK?” His voice broke halfway through but there was no one around to hear it. He checked the barricades and although the room was still sealed up and there was no way from inside that anyone could slip out, at least not without opening the barricades and making a lot of noise.

There was an X carved into the wall, which Morty placed a finger on, tracing the crude marking.

Then he noticed the seal on the floor, which he clearly remembered placing over the exit. He picked it up carefully, turning it over in his hands and then it caught fire, exploding in a stream of ashes on the floor.

Now, clearly alarmed, Morty continued to look around the room. Then he saw the map that Roark brought in, and the X placed at the all too familiar location.

His heart dropped.

Faster than he could tell himself to move, he flew out of his room, and made his way out of his fog coated gym out to Ecruteak. Roark was in trouble, and he couldn’t even gauge the severity of it.


End file.
